


Common Ground

by EmBethMarsh



Category: The Inbetweeners
Genre: Friendship, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, Slash, The Inbetweeners - Freeform, inbetweeners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmBethMarsh/pseuds/EmBethMarsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will discovers Jay doesn't like blood. Have the pair discovered some common ground?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Ground

Why had Will ever fucking let his moronic friends put on a horror film that was practically famous for the amount of blood and gore spilt across it? One droplet of blood and Will was rendered useless. The colour drained from his face, his throat filled with a combination of sick and bile, not to mention he'd fall incredibly dizzy. After an exponential aggregation of all of the above, that's when he'd faint. The worst thing was, the problem had got so bad that he'd actually tried cures. Firstly, he'd had to work out whether the problem was simply biological or psychological. Biological won since his mum's siblings also suffered the ailment. So if it was a biological problem, the a biological cure was deducible. The problem was that in his desperation Will bought into internet drugs and after ordering what he thought was a miracle drug, guaranteed to make him a blood-lover for life, he was sorely disappointed and a little disgusted to find that the drugs were simple defected sleeping pills. Brilliant. But that brought him to now. His current predicament.  
In all their wisdom, his friends, who'd placed the film on despite his protests, had effectively locked him outside his own home. They had a reason; so they didn't have to deal with sick or a fainting spell. Either of which, they'd be hopeless at.  
That's why, much to his own surprise, Will's face currently displays a look of entire shock when Jay (his least favourite friend in all honesty) wanders through the patio doors and straight over to the garden swing Will was sat on. He's about as pasty as Will. When the reason why strikes Will he cannot help but smile at his friend's own misery. It's obvious that he's suffering the same illness,  
“Don't say a fucking word, Briefcase.” Jay orders but has to lean forward in case he's almost sick during his words. Will stays mute for the moment, leaving Jay to judge whether he is going to vomit. The answer seems to be a no when he sits back onto the swing and stops leaning forward. Of course, Jay being Jay, forgets that it's a swing and the movement of the device sends both boys into a dizzy fit, which does not make the swing any steadier. After moving to a stationary bench, Will decides it's okay to speak now. His smile's gone anyway, so Jay might get words of sympathy,  
“You kept it quiet that you didn't like blood.” Will states, instilling Jay to elaborate on the matter. He shrugs before responding,  
“I didn't know. First time it's happened, ain't it?” He's telling the truth, he's always been fine with blood before except this one sudden occurrence. In his head, he's already diagnosed that Jay's illness is psychological and not biological; not even the sleeping pills will work for him. But Will has researched psychological treatments and they're easy enough to do. They just take a long time and it would probably be unethical for them not to be conducted by a psychologist. Sort of like going to the hospital and getting treated by a patient. But the main thing each psychological treatment says is that you have to find out the route cause; what made the patient have an negative reaction to blood?  
“Has something happened to you recently that might alter your perception on blood?” Will asks in his best doctor speak as Jay pulls a face to symbolise No, what are you on about, you wanker? But after that face is gone there is a little bit of fear behind Jay's eyes; he knows exactly what caused this, he just doesn't want to talk about it. As observing as ever, Will notices and continues, “Look, you can talk to me, I’m not exactly the gossiping type.” Jay pulls the dismissal face again; this is going to take a lot of coaxing. So that's what Will does; keeps persistently informing Jay about why he should open up. The frustration in Jay's face is growing and Will knows it. He stops as his pseudo-interrogation techniques are having the adverse affect.  
Jay calms after a few minutes and both boys are slightly more perky. The colour in their cheeks has returned and the world has stopped spinning. But neither has gone back inside. Maybe they didn't want to risk seeing blood. But maybe, just maybe, they were enjoying sitting here on this warm summer's night. Moonlight shining down, illuminating them. Being together in this peaceful silence only occasionally broken by some nocturnal animal noise. This is the first time he and Jay have been together and not fought for at least 15 minutes. Will is sure of it,  
“I had this nightmare the other night.” The silence is broken and Will is intently listening. Whether this is the story about Jay's sudden phobia or not, Will is enticed with every word, “Someone hit me and there was blood everywhere and that's it.” It isn't it at all. Jay is still keeping something from Will and both know it. They've never experienced anything remotely like an heart-to-heart other than when drunk. Jay's not going to say anything more so Will sees how far his luck will stretch,  
“So who was this 'someone'? You never invent original characters in a dream; they're always people you know or remind you of someone.” Will explains and Jay sighs. He knows. He knows exactly who the someone is. The nightmare isn't any normal nightmare. It was one about his childhood. One that plagues him every now and then. A real life yet terrible memory exaggerated in dream form. But Jay can't explain all that to Will. What would that help? It would give Will the advantage, he'd know Jay's weaknesses then. Not even Simon or Neil know. But it might help. And he couldn't get that out of his mind. Talking might actually help. Plus, it would be better to talk now whilst Will was feeling sympathetic rather than the typical smart arse attitude he usually displayed,   
“It was my dad.” That makes sense to Will. Jay's dad was a colossal dick, it was perfect logic that Jay had dreams pertaining to him in a negative way. Will looks at Jay. Well, not really looks, more stares. There's fright in Jay's eyes and a distinct change to his breathing pattern; it's more shallow and drawn out. And realisation hits Will,  
“It's a memory, isn't it?” Jay nods and confirms. Not that it's come as much of a surprise to Will and if it has he's doing a great job of showing a neutral reaction. Silence returns. However, Will cannot help but place his hand over Jay's. It causes the latter to glance at the bespectacled boy. But a quick glance becomes a hearty gaze. There's like an invisible magnet between the two boys. It's pulling them closer and closer until they're touching. They're kissing lightly. In the moonlight on a porch bench. This should ideally be happening by a man and a woman in some cheesy romance film. But it's not. It's between Jay Cartwright and Will McKenzie. The kiss abruptly stops when Simon appears at the patio door; he's not seen anything. The films finished and he and Neil have drank all the beer in their absence. Will doesn't care, he's quite content and Jay doesn't care, he's quite relieved.


End file.
